Author's Note: Just to be clear, this is consistent with canon up until season 3 episode 8, sans the Penny bit.

Pyrrha stood upon a precipice.

Far above the dark waters below, the cliff stood stark against the coastline. It ran down from the forest, ending in an abrupt, violent drop into the sea. The waves crashed and churned, almost yearning for the looming cliff tops. The night was cold and black, without even a shattered moon to light the sky. Wind blew forcefully across the bluff, running across her dull bronze cuirass and bare shoulders.

Despite this Pyrrha was not chilled, taking in her surroundings clearly. Thanking her aura for the help, she felt drawn to the precipice and approached. Standing upon the edge, her scarlet ponytail caught in the breeze, Pyrrha looked down to the black water. She found the waves unyielding. The waves themselves could be seen clearly, but they concealed everything beneath like a black silk curtain. Behind her, far beyond the forest, Amity Colosseum hung in the sky like a beacon.

As it crashed upon the rocks the water seemed to rush up to meet her. Pyrrha was anxious as the wind swept across her body, afraid she would fall. Beads of sweat rolled down her face from beneath her scarlet hair. When she tried to step back, though, Pyrrha found that she was transfixed by the roiling waters, unable to retreat. She dropped to her hands and knees, hoping to stabilize herself upon the cliff edge, eyes fixed on the water all the while.

Pyrrha looked upon the water, taking fast, trembling breaths. They were imbued with a fear she had never known. As it churned so did she, her chest heaving as she stared into it deeper. In her shortness of breath, she tore off her choker necklace, casting it into the wind. Pyrrha watched it sink down, down, and into the water. Once it broke the surface it gleamed for an instant and passed through the inky veil, disappearing and leaving nothing but ripples in its wake.

Pyrrha clutched at the dirt, sending a few pebbles cascading down after her choker. The water's surface was opaque and seemed to absorb them without creating any new ripples, as if needn't even bother with them. She had known it all of her life and yet, now that it was so close, it was completely different. Now that she saw it, this cliff was so immediate and brutal, so utterly callous.

She supposed she'd always been standing atop a cliff, though.

With a tentative smirk Pyrrha rose, her footing sure once again. Being a huntress was a cliff unto itself—this was just another ledge to climb. If she was being honest with herself, as she always tried to do, she couldn't treat this any differently.

And then there was no wind. No Beacon and Mistral, no Vytal and no Jaune. There wasn't even a cliff to hold her up.

There was only Pyrrha and the water.

Beneath her still, the water stretched across the horizon with no shore in sight. She could now turn to look any which way, for the water was all around her. Moreover, the water was still: featureless without even waves to color it's stark black visage.

Pyrrha was drawn to it by something deep within herself. She knew what it was now: her morals, her very self. A cruel irony, for she could not be true to herself without jeopardizing the very self that compelled her to do so.

Pyrrha drew her arms wide and closed her eyes, taking in a long breath. As soon as she closed her eyes the sounds of the waves crashing to shore rushed back to her and she felt the wind on her skin once again.

She smiled, reopening her eyes, and again there was only the water.

Pyrrha let herself fall forward, bending into a dive. She shut her eyes tight and heard the rush of the wind, shivering as the inevitable forces sent her careening into the water.

Pyrrha broke the surface, feeling the water's slap upon her skin. Beneath the surface, now, the dark liquid was no longer opaque. Though dark, the water felt familiar. It was then Pyrrha noticed her vision dimming. After the initial panic she calmed herself, reasserting that this was what she wanted to do. Quicker now, Pyrrha's senses dimmed, leaving her with just her thoughts. Whatever happened, Pyrrha just wanted her people to live well, and for her friends to know what they meant to her. Mean. What they mean to her, she corrected herself. Pyrrha saw them—Ruby, Nora, Jaune. Finally she said a prayer, a prayer that they would understand her actions, whatever came of them.

Her consciousness flickered and she let the water take her.

"Pyrrha? Pyrrha!? It's time to go," Jaune said.

"Wha-wha?" Pyrrha asked. She opened her eyes to see her dorm room. She was lying in bed.

"Your round starts in 20 minutes, you need to wake up. Ren and Nora are waiting at the bullhead," Jaune insisted.

"Oh, right. I'll be right out, just give me the room to change," Pyrrha said sleepily, climbing out of her bed.

"Sure." Jaune paused at the door a moment before saying, "Pyrrha… Look, about before—"

"It's fine, Jaune, don't worry about it," Pyrrha replied quickly.

"I didn't mean to upset you, if you'd just tell me what's going on—"

"I'm fine," Pyrrha replied again.

"Are you? Pyrrha, I'm worried about you," Jaune said, frowning.

Pyrrha walked up to Jaune and put her arm on his shoulder. "Honestly, Jaune, I'm fine," Pyrrha said slowly, meaning the words. "I feel better than usual. This fight should be even easier than the one against Penny."

"Y-yeah," Jaune said weakly, rubbing his arm.

Pyrrha went to her dresser, pulling out her socks and evening gloves. She seemed to check in multiple drawers, looking for her scarlet sash.

"Hey… When we were talking, what did you mean by destiny?" Jaune asked.

Pyrrha rummaged through the drawer, pulling out her sash as she answered, "Just that team JNPR could do great things if we put our minds to it."

"That's not what you meant!" Jaune said frustratedly.

"Oh, what was it then?" Pyrrha asked absentmindedly.

"What were we talking about that day? I want to hear it from you," Jaune asked pointedly.

Pyrrha paused for a moment, straightening up, her back still turned to Jaune. Looking over her shoulder slightly, she said, "Destiny."

Jaune paused for a moment, mouth agape. He couldn't understand why Pyrrha was lying about this—why she was being so cagey about that day.

"Y'know what? Forget it. Let's just head to the tournament…" Jaune said dejectedly.

"Okay," Pyrrha replied quietly.

Before closing the door, Jaune said, "When you're ready, please talk to me. I-I just want Pyrrha back."

Jaune left before Pyrrha could say anything. Back within the dorm room Pyrrha paused before getting dressed. His words has killed her, leaving her tearful now. Her voice heavy with emotion, Pyrrha whispered simply, "I'm sorry."

Author's Note: "Author's," lawl.

Did you figure out what this was about? It wasn't actually suicide, though I think the tag was needed, considering. I wasn't trying to glorify suicide either—it was just a simple metaphor for Pyrrha thinking about her mortality via a writer who's scared of heights. Pyrrha's choice to become the maiden or not, potentially losing her personality—her self—has a lot of parallels with death. For if your personality is destroyed or overwritten, if your perspective no longer inhabits your body, if you no longer see out your eyes, then would that not be your death, if only to yourself? (I'm not necessarily saying that that happened here.)

Anyway I'd love to read your reviews / thoughts if you have the time. Cya!